


Desperate Measures

by alifeasvivid



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha!Alfred, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Omegaverse, omega!Arthur, smut in last chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18834658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alifeasvivid/pseuds/alifeasvivid
Summary: The least damsel-esque omega Alfred has ever seen is about to need some rescuing… and Alfred’s about to be in a world of hurt. It all works out in the end though.





	1. Desperate Measures

**Author's Note:**

> Originally from tumblr, but I've decided to start backing up everything here given the fluctuating state of that hellsite.

Alfred F. Jones has been working out at the same gym since he moved to the city after college. He has always been very athletic, even for an alpha. Now, at twenty-five years old, having no mate (having never had even a long-term relationship) he has a lot of pent-up energy to work off and most of his evenings are spent exercising.

Like most public gyms, this one releases a fine mist of chemicals into the air which are meant to dull the scent and sense of smell of its patrons. But, like most public gyms, the patrons of this one have self-segregated and it’s mainly known as a gym that alphas and betas frequent. Even with the scent suppressants, most omegas and many betas prefer to exercise without the presence of too many alphas. Conversely, many alphas find it less distracting to work out with only other alphas and betas.

That’s fine, but even so, Alfred firmly believes that everyone should be able to do whatever they want, go wherever they want, and be whoever they want—though many might disagree and say an omega’s place is at home or that they should only be out with their mate or an alpha family member. But Alfred is certain that everyone has the right to make their way in the world regardless of type and it’s a right he would fight to defend if ever the situation arose. So, of course, he doesn’t care about which types frequent the same gym as he does.

He just wishes that one particular omega didn’t apparently share his political views. 

The lithe, beautiful omega with tousled tawny hair and striking green eyes started coming to the gym about three months ago. He usually runs on the elliptical for half an hour or so and then does free weights–at impressive weight increments too, given his willowy frame. He could really almost pass for a beta with his broader shoulders, toned chest, and lean arms, but the fluidity of his movements and the slight flare to his hips which even his loose shorts cannot hide give him away.

Alfred occasionally wonders if he’s  _trying_  to pass as a beta.

When the omega first started at the gym, several alphas tried to approach him, but all of them were met with a glare so furious that they backed off immediately. The omega even took down one especially disrespectful and handsy alpha by using his weight against him with moves so deft and precise they could have only come from frequent practice with hand-to-hand combat techniques.

That had been the moment when Alfred’s passing admiration of the omega’s exercise routine and his casual attraction to the omega’s beauty shifted and became something far more intense. It makes perfect sense, really. In the same way that the omega is not like other omegas, Alfred, too, is not like other alphas. Despite his appearance as a strong, handsome, controlling alpha, Alfred has little interest in playing the dominant role so many omegas seem to want out of their partners. His temperament tends more toward sweet, attentive, and loving; he would rather dote on his partner than dominate them outright.

So an omega who not only has the guts to work out at predominantly alpha gym, but also pull off the rigorous routine he does  _and_  take down an asshole alpha? Well, as far as Alfred sees it, he’s just a moth to the omega’s flame.

This leaves Alfred F. Jones with two problems. The first is that he really wants to approach the omega and get to know him… or at least have a name to give to his increasingly frequent fantasies, but he does not want to be glared at and dismissed like the other alphas.

The second problem is that Alfred has always had an exceptionally sensitive nose which even the chemicals wafting through the gym do little to weaken. He has been able to smell the omega from day one and the effect has only become more and more intoxicating. It’s nothing Alfred can’t handle, normally. Today, however, is not normal. Today, Alfred can smell very acutely that the omega is about to go into heat. Soon.

Like at any minute soon.

To make matters worse, the omega doesn’t even seem to be aware of his own predicament.

Alfred watches him protectively, not committing to any part of his own routine, just in case. When his nose twitches acutely, he looks up instantly in time to see the omega staring wide-eyed at his own reflection. The omega freezes and lowers the kettlebell he’d been lifting, gripping it tightly.

Without a second’s hesitation, Alfred practically sprints over to him, shielding the omega with his body even though he knows it probably seems like he’s trying to trap him. He looks down at the omega, still clinging to the weight as if he could use it to defend himself. For the first time, Alfred doesn’t see a fiery glare, he sees terror. “Hey, it’s okay,” Alfred murmurs. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

The omega clearly doesn’t believe him. “Like hell.” His eyes dart around the crowded gym. “I’ll get out of here on my own, just piss off.”

 _Oh god, he’s British_ , Alfred thinks and swallows and tries to breathe through his mouth to keep himself from getting dizzy, but this omega’s heat scent is probably the best thing he’s ever smelled in his life. “No, you won’t. The chemicals in here aren’t going to mask your heat scent for long.”

The omega furrows his heavy brows. “And how did you smell it so quickly?”

Alfred grins disarmingly and taps his nose, “My nose is pretty sharp. Listen, I swear I’m really not going to hurt you. I just wanna help. My name’s Alfred. What’s yours?”

The omega scans him for a moment, discreetly sniffs and then answers, “Arthur.”

“Okay, Arthur.” Alfred keeps him shielded, but they need to get out of there fast. Alfred takes stock of the space, they have a pretty straight shot to the door, but it’s on the other side of the gym and there are plenty of alphas and betas who could accost them if they aren’t quick enough. Arthur’s scent is getting stronger and spiking with something that smells like actual arousal, but Alfred tries not to pay attention to it.

Alfred then glances down at the kettlebell Arthur is still holding. The only thing stronger than heat-scent is the piercing and inescapable odor of someone in extreme pain. “I’ve got an idea, but uh… it’s not a good one.”

“I think the time for good ideas has passed.”

“Do you trust me?”

“What? No. Bloody hell, of course not.”

“Okay. Good. I need you to drop that kettlebell on my foot.“

Arthur, despite his flushed face, dilated pupils, and the way he keeps licking his lips at Alfred, sputters in shock. "Wh-what? It’s thirteen kil- I mean thirty pounds. It will very likely break bones. You’ll be in screaming agony.”

“Yeah. Exactly. Pain. You’ll help me out and rush me outta here, though, right?”

It’s Arthur’s turn to visibly swallow, apparently. He looks down at the weight, lifting it only a little as if testing it and what it could potentially do to Alfred’s sneakered foot. “Why would you do this? You don’t even know me.”

“Can we talk about it later?” Alfred says, trying desperately not to breathe through his nose. “We’re gonna be out of time here in a minute. Just drop the weight on my foot.”

“I-I-…” and from the surge in his scent, it’s rather obvious that there are suddenly a lot of things he wants to do with Alfred and causing him grievous bodily harm isn’t anywhere on the list.

The ensuing wave of pheromones nearly knocks Alfred over. Arthur is close to losing his rational abilities and surrendering to his heat and he’s apparently chosen Alfred as the alpha he would now like to spend said heat with. Alfred wants nothing more than to give in, but he is now aware that some of the other alphas in the gym are catching onto the situation. “Arthur… Arthur, we’re out of time. I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t hate me for this later. Desperate times, desperate measures right? I’m sorry.” He grabs Arthur by his shoulders and shifts his foot slightly. He discovers that even though the omega is lean and muscular, his skin is incredibly soft… and a second later, Alfred discovers that Arthur’s lips are even softer and that he tastes even better than he smells.

A second after that, Alfred distantly realizes through the blinding pain that his plan worked: the kiss had shocked Arthur enough that he dropped the kettlebell. “FUCK!” he cries out. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck SHIT OW!”

The scent of pain causes the other alphas to turn away, a twisted sign of respect, but it works for Alfred’s plan.

On top of that, the scent of Alfred’s pain seems to have staved off Arthur’s heat long enough for them to get the hell out of the building and get Alfred to the nearest urgent care.

The nurses pull Arthur away from Alfred immediately and the separation seems to upset Arthur, which in turn upsets Alfred, but he doesn’t have long to think about it before he succumbs to the pain and blacks out.

When he comes to, his foot is bandaged and throbbingly numb and Arthur is sitting in a chair near the bed.

“They said you’re lucky you didn’t break any bones,” Arthur murmurs. “I’ll let them know you’re awake.”

“Um… okay,” Alfred says groggily and sniffs the air. “Hey wait. How-how come you’re not in heat anymore?”

“They gave me some of those drugs that will hold it off for a few hours.”

Alfred’s brow furrows, “That stuff’s not good for you. They usually only give people that during emergencies. Are you okay?”

Arthur laughs wryly. “I’m fine. I asked for it. I wanted to be lucid enough to thank you, since I’m certain I’ll never see you again after this.”

“What? Why?”

“Why would I thank you? Hmph. False modesty is not very attractive. You probably saved my life just now, in one way or another. A lot of other alphas would have just taken advantage or… or worse.”

Alfred smiles at Arthur’s petulant response and shakes his head, “No, I meant… why will I never see you again after this?”

Arthur’s eyes widen for a moment before he leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest. “Well, you know, I can’t go back to that gym anymore and I’ve seen you there a lot, but I don’t actually know you… and… and an omega who can’t even keep track of their heat is not very desirable so…”

There’s a slight whiff of something under the meds they gave Arthur and it’s almost enough to play the omega’s life for Alfred in flashes: the pain of being different, the pain of being unwanted because of those differences, the pain of loneliness, and the heaviness of chips piling up on shoulders. Alfred can relate. “You think you’re not desirable?” Alfred asks seriously, then quips, “What was that about false modesty not being attractive?”

Arthur stares at him again, seemingly confused. “I—”

The nurse, another omega, walks in at that moment and fusses over Alfred. She gives him his care instructions and says she’ll start on his discharge, but someone will come in to show him how to use the crutches in a few minutes.

When she closes the door, Arthur looks down at his hands. “E-earlier, at the gym, when I asked why you wanted to help me, you said we could talk about it later.”

“I was hoping you’d be at home and in your heat nest now and that you wouldn’t remember that,” Alfred grins sheepishly. “But… I mean, I don’t wanna sound cliche or something. I know some alphas are jerks, but I try really hard not to be. If you wanna work out at that gym, you should be able to and you should feel safe there. Any omega should feel safe there. I get it if it’s distracting to work out with different types for some people, but that doesn’t mean only alphas can be there. Anyone should be able to be wherever or whoever or whatever they want to be regardless of type, you know?”

Arthur’s expression is caught between awe and disappointment. “So… so that’s it? You would have done the same for any omega in that situation?”

Alfred smiles, “Well, yeah. But also I like you and I think you’re really hot.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow again—the same one as before, Alfred notices. “You do know I beat up an alpha for harassing me, don’t you?”

Alfred chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I was there. I saw the whole thing. I thought it was fucking badass.”

Arthur blushes bright red. “You saw that? And you still think I’m… attractive?”

“Really hot,” Alfred corrects.

Arthur chews on his lip for a moment and then pulls a small slip of paper from his pocket and presses it into Alfred’s palm. “This is my number… call me in about a week or so.”

Before Alfred can reply, a beta wearing scrubs walks in. “Mr. Jones, my name is Sam, I’m the physical therapist here. If you’re ready, I can show you how to use your crutches. Mr. Kirkland,” the beta breathes in delicately, “your medication is going to wear off soon, I would suggest making your way home. We can arrange to have someone take you there, if necessary.”

Arthur stands up from his chair. “No, no that’s quite alright, I’m sure I can manage.”

“Hey Arthur, please let them have someone take you home. I don’t want my busted foot to be for nothing,” Alfred interjects. He hastily scribbles his own phone number on a piece of paper from the notepad next to the bed. He hands it to Arthur. “I’m serious, please let them take you home… and… call me in about a week or so.”

Arthur takes the paper and the corners of his lips turn upward. “How do you know I won’t be waiting around for you to make the first move and call me?”

Alfred grins broadly and shrugs nonchalantly. “Call it a hunch.”


	2. To Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seven days with no contact from Arthur, Alfred's bruised foot is the last thing on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick interlude!

With orders from the urgent care to keep weight off of his foot for at least a week (he could tell they had no real expectation of him doing so, given that he is an alpha and an unmated one at that), Alfred F. Jones requests and is granted permission to work from home for a short while. He actually does follow the doctor’s instructions, knowing well enough that alleviating restlessness is not worth potentially damaging his foot permanently.

He has spent the past seven days, however, metaphorically climbing the walls in anticipation of any communication from Arthur Kirkland, all the while knowing Arthur is in his nest, naked and writhing in heat with no alpha to soothe and pleasure him. Alfred’s sharp sense of smell won’t let him forget it. The average length of an omega’s heat is around five days, so at this point Alfred is faced with two possibilities. The first is that Arthur’s heat has ended and he hasn’t contacted Alfred either because he is more shy than Alfred assumed or he’s simply not going to message Alfred at all. Alfred, ever the optimist, refuses to believe that which means the second possibility is true: Arthur is still in heat. 

Seven days is a long time… a deliciously long time. The longer an omega’s heat is, the more time their alpha gets to spend… soothing them. Alfred knows he’s getting ahead of himself to imagine being lucky enough to be allowed to spend Arthur’s next heat with him, but now that Alfred has actually met the man he’d been admiring for so long, not only getting a close-up smell of him, but his heat-scent no less, an ache which is only partly biological has utterly eclipsed the pain in his foot and consumed the rest of him.

Alfred sits on his sofa with his leg propped up on an ottoman, his computer resting on a lap desk, staring around at his apartment and realizing how sparse it is for the first time. He sets his laptop aside as his brain supplies him with the memory of Arthur’s scent and the way Arthur had looked at him once he’d felt assured that Alfred truly wasn’t going to hurt him, that he was only there to rescue him. It’s a strong way of putting it, Alfred knows. Arthur could have absolutely gotten out of there on his own, but it hadn’t been a risk Alfred was willing to take.

Alfred knows how many other alphas act and the mere notion of one of them hurting Arthur or taking advantage of him makes him prickle with rage. Even the thought that a different alpha might have helped Arthur causes jealousy to rise up in the back of Alfred’s throat.

But that kiss. Alfred tosses his glasses onto the couch cushion beside him and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Not only to know what the beginning stages of Arthur’s heat smell like, but what they taste like as well is torture. His own body is still responding to Arthur almost as if Arthur were actually there, so the lack of the omega’s physical presence is driving Alfred crazy.

That’s the biological part.

The rest is waking up in the urgent care, seeing Arthur sitting in the room, and feeling elated that the omega hadn’t just left. Alfred flushes slightly remembering their conversation; he might not have been quite as bold if the pain medication hadn’t been buzzing in his brain. Or maybe he would have. Seeing Arthur sitting there, fidgeting, clearly allowing Alfred a glimpse of his insecurities had incited Alfred’s protective instincts and attentive, caring disposition.

He leans his head back and sighs, wondering if Arthur caught onto his own insecurities, which are not dissimilar to the omega’s. He hopes so badly that Arthur could want an alpha like him… that Arthur will want  _him_ , specifically… that he will go out with Alfred and fall in love with him and want Alfred to be his mate and– Alfred shakes his head and growls, chastising himself for getting carried away. 

It’s so hard not to do it though. Alfred wants nothing more than to dote on Arthur and spoil him with love and affection until he can realize that he has nothing to be insecure about, that he’s not alone in being different from others of his type.

Alfred picks up his glasses and puts them back on, resisting the urge to check his phone. It is screen side down, but there’s still no point because he’s had the volume on high for the past few days and, except for work calls, it has been silent.

For a little while, Alfred loses himself in fantasizing about Arthur. He imagines getting to know the omega, what Arthur would look like telling Alfred about his hobbies; he’d be reserved at first, but get more and more animated and lively as he relaxed. He thinks—he hopes—that he could be someone safe for Arthur, someone he could be unguarded around if he wanted. There’s no way an omega like Arthur doesn’t have a job and Alfred wonders what it might be, but it’s impossible to tell. Even so, Alfred indulges in wistful reverie of Arthur coming to him after a rough day, grousing as Alfred cuddled him until he’d vented all his frustration. Naturally, he’d then sputter as Alfred scooped him up and carried him off to bed, but he’d melt as Alfred kissed every inch of him. Alfred can only guess how it would feel to have Arthur’s fingers fisted in his hair, how he’d sound as he gasped or called out Alfred’s name, and Alfred can’t even begin to know what it would do to Arthur’s scent.

But dear god, how he wants to know.

At that, Alfred does pick up his phone. There are no notifications. If an eighth day passes, he thinks he might go completely insane. He could try to find Arthur on social media, but the thought of doing that makes him feel scummy, so he leaves it alone.

He pretends to do work for another hour, but really does nothing more than scroll over things he has already worked on and make small tweaks here and there. By the time he can no longer justify doing that, it’s after five o’clock, so he closes his computer and sighs. He reaches for his crutches and wrangles himself into a standing position.

He’s halfway to the kitchen when he hears his text tone go off. Abandoning the crutches, Alfred dives back onto the couch. His hands are shaking as he picks up his phone

There are two messages:

_Hello. This is Arthur. We met at the gym last week. I hold no delusions that an alpha such as yourself has waited this long for an omega like me, but on the astronomically small chance that you have, I’d like to take you out for coffee._

_Or something._

Alfred does not and cannot resist the urge to cheer giddily out loud, heedless of any of his neighbors in his joy. He does shake his head slightly at Arthur’s words and doesn’t hesitate one second before replying.

_You’re totally worth waiting for and I hope coffee or something is just the beginning._


End file.
